


Terminator References are Great Pick-Up Lines

by tweekscoffeecup



Category: South Park
Genre: First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Little bit of angst, M/M, craig doesnt know how to use his words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-16 23:54:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5845858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tweekscoffeecup/pseuds/tweekscoffeecup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Craig is stuck in a hole and Tweek offers his assistance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terminator References are Great Pick-Up Lines

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://tweekscoffeecup.tumblr.com/)

Working as a thief for Cartman is probably one of the most annoying, ridiculous jobs that anyone could be given in Koopa Keep. It’s just Craig’s luck that he's the only one in Koopa Keep for the king to call upon. Or at least, the only _good_ thief. And while there are some perks to being the king’s favorite, it also leads to a lot of trouble.

Like falling into a hole on his way home from a meeting in Koopa Keep trouble.

Booby-trap, he thinks dazedly as he sits up from where he fell. Craig shakes his head and tries to collect himself, looking around.

It wasn’t the deepest hole, or the widest; just deep enough where Craig couldn’t hoist himself out of it, the top being a few inches above his head. It was wide enough where he could probably spread his legs out comfortably if he was sitting.

The walls themselves are too slick to grab onto, and even if he could manage to dig his hands or feet into them for leverage, he would fall off immediately. This doesn’t stop Craig from trying to scale the wall, of course. Bruising the back of his head on the wall behind him when he falls stops him from trying again, however. 

Rubbing the back of his head, Craig stood up dizzily and cursed; its starting to get dark and he's pretty sure everyone had already stopped playing the game to go home. Its also beginning to snow, and at the rate its falling, Craig was starting to worry that he would be buried by morning.

Quickly, Craig checks his phone and scowls when he finds it dead. He tries yelling for help next, and when that doesn’t work, he tries angrily throwing snowballs from his hole. That doesn’t work either, so Craig decides to do the next best thing: wait for help. 

He wonders if anyone has noticed that he’s gone yet. Probably, he decides after a few minutes of backtracking what he’d done before heading home. He’d said bye to his friends before he had taken off, and everyone knew that Craig took a shortcut through the forest to get home, so they would at least have a general idea of where he was when his parents inevitably started asking around. A giant hole on his usual path home would raise a few red flags.

Thinking back, Craig’s not really sure where the hole even came from. It wasn’t there _before_ he went over to Cartman’s house, but it was definitely there after. He’s pretty sure the elves have something to do with it; a trap to capture the king’s best thief for some sort of hostage situation, maybe.

Or maybe king fat-ass finally got tired of him, planted a trap, and decided to leave him there to die. It was a little morbid, but Craig can think of worse things that Cartman had done to ‘take care of’ kids who didn’t listen to him, and Craig wasn’t exactly the obedient type. 

Craig scowls and crosses his arms. If push comes to shove, he could always play traitor when he got out of here. Stan might not be happy about it, but he knew for a fact that Kyle wouldn’t turn him away from his kingdom. 

Oh well. 

At least the view is nice, Craig thinks as he leans against the side of the hole, watching the snow fall. The sky is dark enough where if Craig uses his imagination, the snowflakes sort of look like falling stars. He wonders how many he can count before someone rescues him. 

He only gets to ten when a big yellow something pops over the side of his hole and scares him half to death. Tweek, Craig realizes belatedly. He’s still wearing his outfit from the game; his usual pants, his black paint marks, and his bow slung across his back.

“Tweek,” Craig says breathlessly. “Don’t do that, dude.”

“Ngh, s-sorry. You weren’t home so I came looking for you,” Tweek replies, managing to look a bit sheepish. “I didn’t scare you too bad, did I?”

Craig scoffs. “I’m not scared of anything.”

“Sure,” Tweek says with an unusual amount of cheekiness. Craig flips him off and Tweek smiles. “Anyway, let’s get you out of there, man."

"That would be preferable," Craig grumbles.

“Follow me if you want to live,” Tweek says in the worst German accent Craig has ever heard.

He holds out his hand and Craig can’t help but stare at him in amused disbelief. He wonders if he should tell Tweek that he completely butchered the Terminator reference or that his accent was something closer to country than German.

“And if I don’t?” he asks instead. Tweek draws back his hand and gives him a considering look.

“Then, uh,” Tweek tentatively smiles at him and Craig’s stomach backflips, “follow me if you want to not be stuck in a hole?”

He’s reaching out again, but when Craig shakes his head he withdraws his hand quickly.

“Oh m-man,” Tweek says. He nervously glances around before looking back down at Craig. “Are you planning on just sitting down there all night?”

“Of course not,” Craig says easily. “It’s really gross down here, dude. There’s probably a ton of bugs, spiders-was that a snake?”

“A-a _snake_? Nghh!” Tweek twitches, looking down at Craig with worry. “Jesus, man, those things can kill you with one bite. Spiders, too. _Ack_! A-and I’m not strong enough to carry you to a hospital if you’re bitten! Oh man, this is too much pressure.”

“Calm down, Tweek.” It was bad enough he was stuck in this stupid hole, he didn’t need Tweek having a panic attack over Craig’s potential poisoning on top of it. The sentiment was nice, though. “I was just playing around. It’s too cold for anything other than me to be down here. I think.” 

“You never know, man. Weirder things have happened,” Tweek says, but he relaxes slightly at Craig’s words.

 “True,” Craig agrees, nodding sagely. “Like getting brainwashed by Japanese cartoons. Or saving the world from giant guinea pigs.”

 “That entire year I hung out with Stan’s gang,” Tweek says, shaking his head almost fondly. “Also, underwear gnomes.”

 Craig hums. “Childhood is fucked up.”

“Maybe just ours,” Tweek says with a nervous laugh, looking away. Fondness fills Craig and he can’t help but study Tweek for a moment; it’s the calmest that Craig’s seen him in a long time, his shoulders dropped and a hint of a smile on his lips. He’s still shaking, but Craig chalks it up of the ball-shriveling cold weather, and not from his usual anxiety.

The moon has risen in the distance, and from where Craig stood it looks almost like a halo above Tweek’s head. Combined with the thick black marks drawn across his skin and the snowflakes clinging to his hair, it makes Tweek look almost kind of pretty.

Pretty. The word hits Craig hard, and while he’s sure the words ‘pretty’ and ‘Tweek’ have never been used together in the history of _ever_ , he can’t deny that it’s oddly fitting. Pretty, with his twitches and his outburst and his constant paranoia. Pretty, with his wild, unkempt hair. Pretty, with his pale skin and the dark circles under his eyes and - and -

Holy shit, Craig thinks, he likes Tweek. Thinking back, he’s _always_ liked Tweek, ever since they were little, fuck, and of course he realizes it at the worst possible moment ever, stuck in a stupid hole with Tweek’s stupidly kissable face close enough that if Craig was to just lean up _a tiny bit more_ he could probably brush their lips together and - Tweek taps his forehead, and Craig jumps back into reality.

“Did you say something?” Craig tries to ask casually. His voice cracks halfway through the sentence and he winces, wondering if he sounds as panicked as he feels.

 “I asked if you’re feeling alright. You were, uh, making some weird faces, man.” Tweek scrutinizes him for a moment, before his expression melts into something more concerned. “Y-you didn’t see a snake or s-something, did you?”

 Craig laughs nervously, but it comes out sounding choked. “No, I was just - thinking.”

“Thinking?” Tweek prompts when he doesn’t say anything else.

“Yeah,” Craig says, quickly wracking his brain for an excuse, “about the math test we have Monday.”

Tweek tilts his head thoughtfully. “You were blushing pretty hard for someone thinking about math.”

“Well, I - uh,” Craig fumbles, but Tweek cuts him off.

“We don’t even have math tests on Mondays. Nghh - they’re always on Friday.” He frowns and Craig’s panic starts to peak. “Are you sure you’re okay? Y-you might have a fever.”

“I have an idea,” Craig blurts because fuck his brain-to-mouth filter.

Seconds tick by and they stare at each other. For a moment Craig entertains the thought that he didn’t hear him, but it dies when Tweek clears his throat expectantly.

Craig’s eyes drop to the ground without his permission and he nervously kicks a bit of snow around the bottom of the hole. Maybe if he stands still long enough Tweek will give up and leave him in his hole. He’d probably die from exposure, but he figures it would be better than dying from embarrassment.

“Oh my God,” Tweek finally says. "Spit it out, man"

Craig clears his throat. Swallows, tries to find his words, and clears his throat again. Sweat beads on the back of his neck and he gathers himself enough to mutter, “What if I just follow you.”

Above him, Tweek is silent, waiting for Craig to explain. Something in Craig’s stomach twists and turns and he bites his lip, going back to kicking the ground.

Tweek makes a frustrated noise. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean that um - “ God this was hard to put into words. “What if I just want to follow you because you’re you?”

There’s an intake of breath above him and Craig waits for a moment for Tweek to say something back. Probably along the lines of ‘wow Craig, that was really, really gay,’ or ‘this is too much pressure,’ before he would take off running. Tweek says nothing, though, doesn’t even move and Craig can feel panic bubbling in his stomach. The urge to run and hide floods through him but he’s stuck in the stupid hole, stuck with Tweek staring at him and all Craig can do is hang his head and feel the urge to scream press against his tongue.

“Not because I want to live another day or because I’m trapped in some gross old hole,” he continues when Tweek doesn’t say anything, the words running out of his mouth like water. “Not for any other reason besides that you’re Tweek Tweak and I’m Craig Tucker and we’re always together. That’s how it’s always been, how it’s supposed to be.”

Tweek doesn’t say anything still, but Craig hears him shift in the snow. He’s leaving, Craig thinks, and fear grips him suddenly. But then a hand is thrust in front of Craig’s face, surprising him. He stares at it, and then looks at Tweek, who smiles.

“Okay,” Tweek says, and Craig’s eyebrows shoot up.

“I - huh?”

“I said okay.” Tweek makes an impatient sound and waves his hand. “C’mon man, don’t leave me hanging. I-it’s snowing and I’m not wearing a shirt.”

Tweek’s hand is surprisingly sturdy when Craig grabs it. Pushing his feet into the side of the hole for leverage (and only slipping once), it only takes a few moments using their combined strength to pull him out of the hole. When they finally collapse next to each other, panting heavily in the snow with their hands wrapped in the others, it’s Craig who pulls away first.

“We should get out of here,” he says, standing up. A quick scan of their surroundings tells him that they’re actually not too far from Craig’s house. He tells Tweek. 

“Oh, thank God,” Tweek says, twitching. He stands up quickly, brushing snow off of his clothes. “I-I think I might catch frostbite if I’m out here any longer, man.”

Oh, crap that’s right. Tweek is practically naked, walking around in the snow in his barbarian costume. It was starting to show, too; his body is flushed in patchy pinks and reds. Craig quickly slips off his jacket and tosses it to him. “Here, put this on. 

Tweek barely manages to catch it, but jerks the jacket on with shaking hands and zips it up snugly. He rubs his arms through the thick fabric, and sighs in relief. “Nngh - thanks.” 

Craig’s ears burn and he ducks his head. “Yeah, no problem. Thanks for getting me out of the hole.”

Tweek smiles. “Y-you’re welcome.”

They leave the clearing quickly after that, and start making their way to Craig’s house. Thankfully, Tweek doesn’t bring up what Craig said in the hole and Craig wonders if he’s letting the subject drop to save him from giving an awkward rejection. Or maybe he just took it platonically; it would make more sense with how calm Tweek was acting. But it would also mean that Craig accidentally friend-zoned himself.

Craig shakes himself. It’s not like it mattered, anyways. What matters is that the silence between them is warm and comfortable and that Craig’s weird, semi-love confession hadn’t driven him away. What matters is their friendship, even if the thought of being ‘just friends’ with Tweek makes his chest tight. Craig squares his shoulders and pushes the thought away. Doesn’t matter, he repeats grimly, and focuses on walking.

It’s not until they’re almost at the edge of the forest does Tweek nervously ask, “So, uh, does this mean we’re dating?” 

Craig nearly trips over his own feet and has to grab onto a nearby tree to steady himself. “Dude, what?”

“L-like, are we boyfriends now? Or, um - ” Tweek breaks off, twisting his hands through the ends of his hair. “What you said back in the hole about uh, following me, y’know? About us being - uh. T-together. I just want to make sure that we’re on the same page.”

“I’m not gay,” Craig blurts out without meaning to. 

“Oh,” Tweek says, looking upset. His hair is still balled tightly in his hands and he tugs it roughly. “ _Oh_.”

“But I like you,” Craig amends quickly. “I like you a lot.”

Tweek’s hands loosen from his hair, and he lowers them almost cautiously. “R-really? I didn’t just - nghh - completely misread the conversation?”

Craig sighs in relief and shakes his head. “Really, Tweek. I really like you.”

There’s an awkward pause between them before Craig quietly adds, “So maybe that makes me a little gay.”

Tweek snorts, then smiles uncertainly. “S-so where does that leave us?”

“Well, uh, how about this.” Craig holds out his hand, clears his throat, and in his best German accent says, “Follow me if you want to go to IHop and maybe makeout on my bed afterwards.”

“That was awful,” Tweek laughs. He grabs Craig’s hand tightly and grins. “You’re lucky I can’t say no to IHop, man.”

 “What about my really awesome make out offer?” Craig teases, bubbly warmth filling his chest. “I’ve been practicing, dude, think I’ve gotten pretty good. I could show you a few things, if you want.”

“You can show me your practice pillow later. F-for now,” Tweek leans over and nervously presses a kiss on Craig’s cheek and okay, wow, maybe getting stuck in a hole for like four hours wasn’t a bad thing if this is what he get’s out of it, “let’s go get some pancakes.”

 _____

 

 “A-are we snowed in?” Tweek asks, and Craig, who had been leaning over the back of the booth to watch the workers try to get the doors open, nods. 

“Looks like it,” he says with an overdramatic sigh, dropping back down into his seat. “And I was really looking foreword to that promised face-sucking, too.”

“Well, what if we - ngh.” Tweek twitches, ducking farther into the booth when their waitress passes by, also heading towards the door. His face is steadily turning more and more red, and Craig bumps his shoulder against his. Behind them, one of the workers has taken to violently kicking the door and cursing. 

“What if we what?” Craig repeats. Tweek groans and buries his face into his hands. He says something, but it’s too muffled for Craig to hear. He pokes Tweak’s side and he peaks out from between his fingers. “What did you say?”

“W-what if we, uh. Did that. Here.” Craig stares and Tweek groans again, looking frustrated and slightly flustered. “Y’know. What you said before.” 

“And that was?”

“Oh my God,” Tweek says, bringing his hands away from his face to grab the front of Craig’s shirt and lift himself into a kiss. As aggressive as Tweek was acting, the kiss itself was soft and sweet, and all too brief when Tweek hastily pulls away. He’s still tightly gripping the front of Craig’s shirt when he says, “That, Craig. _That_.”

Craig shakes his head and grins. “You want to make out in IHop?”

“Maybe,” Tweek says. Then a bit more firmly, “Yes.”

“What if the waitress sees?” Craig teases. Tweek frowns and narrows his eyes.

“Well, we’ve already eaten so it’s not like she can poison us,” he points out seriously. Craig laughs, but Tweek ignores him to look over at the door conspiringly. “Also, the police are snowed out so I doubt she’ll even try to call them. I think we’ll be alright.”

“I think so too,” Craig says, and pulls him in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> This started off as Craig getting stuck in a hole with zero other plot, but slowly turned into a fluffly Creek fic. I went from writing five hundred words to a little under three thousand. Whew! Funny how things turn out, huh? Anyway, this is my first time writing a fanfic ever, so feedback is appreciated! Thanks for reading! :)


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